


Up The Wolves

by thebirdroads



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:41:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28660383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebirdroads/pseuds/thebirdroads
Summary: "There's bound to be a ghost at the back of your closetNo matter where you liveThere'll always be a few things, maybe several thingsThat you're gonna find really difficult to forgive."Edelgard and Hubert were bound to notice that Lysithea had two crests sooner or later.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	Up The Wolves

“Lady Edelgard, you’re distressed; you aren’t thinking rationally.”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Lady Edelgard, _please-”_ _  
__  
__“_ I know what I _saw_ , Hubert! _”_ Edelgard hates the slight waver in her voice as she whirls around in the dormitory hallway and snaps at him, but she powers through and jabs a finger at his chest.  
  
“You saw it too! I won’t have you lying to me.”  
  
Hubert, uncharacteristically out of sorts, can barely bring himself to meet her furious gaze.  
  
“I...it was chaotic in the battle, perhaps we were mistaken. Perhaps-”  
  
“Enough, Hubert!”  
  
He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, to center himself. When he opens his eyes, he is visibly calmer, more collected.  
  
“It would appear that Lysithea von Ordelia has two Crests.”

Edelgard exhales, a forceful puff of air.  
  
“Two crests. She has two.”  
  
Wordlessly, Hubert places a hand on her shoulder and squeezes.  
  
“Would you like me to stay with you for a moment?”  
  
She shakes her head.  
  
“Thank you, but no. I need to be alone for a moment. Please.”  
  
He appears conflicted for a moment, before bowing.  
  
“Very well. I shall be in my room if you need me.”  
  
“Thank you, Hubert.”  
  
With that, she turns back around, unlocks her bedroom door, and steps inside.  
  
Mechanically, she marches over to her desk and removes her gloves, folding them neatly and placing them in their designated spot. She rests her hands on the hard wood and clenches her fists, the maze of scars on her hands flashing white as she does so.   
  
Hatred wells up in her chest, boiling, burning, suffocating, so intense she feels that she will ignite into a conflagration right on the spot. They did it again. They never stopped, and why would they? She is, after all, living proof that their diseased ideas have merit, that they can succeed in their twisted goals. It is another insult for which they must be held to account. A mirthless laugh escapes her lips at the idea that any further crimes could possibly compound the retribution they are owed. If she had a thousand years, a thousand times that, more lifetimes than there are stars in the sky, she could scarce begin to slake her thirst for justice. For vengeance. If she had her way she would flood that damned city of theirs with blood. The fact that she is forced to work with them if she is to have any hope of liberating Fodlan’s people from the creature that is the Archbishop galls her, fills her throat with bile. For this, too, they shall be held to account. And it will be a reckoning to shake the empty heavens.  
  
And Lysithea…  
  
How? How is it even possible? When would there even have been enough _time_ to-

The Hrym Rebellion. House Ordelia was brought under Imperial jurisdiction as a result of providing aid to House Hrym’s doomed attempt at independence, and Duke von Aegir had been the one in charge of setting the reparations owed. Access to the Ordelia children had clearly been one of them.  
  
With a strangled shriek, Edelgard nearly collapses to her knees, and imagines Duke von Aegir screaming alone in the dark as she and her siblings did, as the Ordelia children surely did. He will scream, Thales will scream, all of them will howl for mercy that will not be given. Her crest of Seiros flares for a moment as her eyes overflow and her fury reignites, but she manages to, with a sharp inhale, regain control of her temper, and exhales raggedly. She must remember, revenge untempered by reason is no justice at all. And, she realizes with a lurch, does Lysithea not have as much a right as her to desire revenge? Is she not equally entitled to retribution? 

Shaking her head at her own childish foolishness, Edelgard wipes the tears from her eyes with the heel of her palm and reflects that instead of the darkness, she will drag them out into the light. She will expose all their sins for all of Fodlan to see; expose the rot festering at the heart of this continent to the purifying light of day. The Church and the monster seated on its central throne is the priority for now, of course, but those who slither in the dark will have their turn. 

And they will die wishing they had never touched her, or Lysithea von Ordelia.


End file.
